


Shards, Echoes, and Ghosts

by rossalupus



Series: all fall down [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, additional lore and side stories, also good practice without having to write and worry over massive chapters., dont know if some archive warniongs will be needed but u never know, not part of the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:06:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rossalupus/pseuds/rossalupus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is a work for side stories and lore deepening stuff,<br/>it wont have any kind of update schedule, simply posting whenever i feel i need to write something not part of the next chapter of the main story, and not able to be put as a starting or ending flicker, (the italic bits from the end of most chapters, from some other perspective with another story, such as Rossa's death in chapter 2) all of this stuff is part of the lore, and usually shows history for characters that i cant find anywhere to put, or who don't actually turn up for ages but i have a deep need to write about, or of course those who die long before the story begins.<br/>also after my attempt at chapter 4, from the strange perspective, ive decided to keep all practice chapters to this work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shards, Echoes, and Ghosts

The dry grass rustles in the wind. the last one slumps to the ground, Armour rattling.  
The hunter groans, scratching at his pallid skin, dark blotches blooming across it at an alarming rate.  
His inky black aura shudders.  
"Bloody Cowards" his voice is raspy, streaked with pain and anger.  
"Damn Grimm", he gave the corpse a savage kick, turning it onto its back.  
"Gutless Cretins" the ruined face stares back at him, black lips, black eyes.

His gaunt face turns up, his features illuminated in the moons glow.  
A wild greying beard, deep scars, thin chapped lips, and pale green eyes, the whites lined with a spreading black.  
"Stupid Old Man".

 

he grasped the scythe, shaky hands gripping worn wood.  
The white blade shone like a slice of moonlight, as sharp as the day it was forged. Its edge had spilled the blood of Grimm and Man alike.  
He had seen the younglings eyes widen as he unsheathed It, Its mere presence had filled them with fear.  
How had he ever expected one of them to do it?

 

in a smooth sweep he brought it round, the tip of the blade level with his hip, his weight on the ball of his left foot.  
so much death.  
so much glory.  
so much time wasted.  
He spun, swinging the Scythe round in a low sweep, before arcing it upwards, the handles slipping from his hands as it ripped upwards. Exhausted, he fell to one knee. Steadying his breath, he listened to the scythes descent.

The younglings could keep their morals.

It was time.

The Scythe whipped down, a faint whisper, a promise of death, a promise of freedom.


End file.
